El Tango Italiano
by WindyCanyon
Summary: Alfred enrolls in a classical dancing class, but makes the mistake of having no partner for the class. Lovino, his instructor, has to step in as his partner and dance with him. Alfred wants to become closer to the dancer, but he's wary of Lovino's Spanish partner, Antonio. AlfredXLovino, one-sided Spamano.
1. Chapter 1

Alfred stepped into the airy room and glanced around nervously, dropping his bag next to the others by the door. The golden, wood floors and the wall covered top to bottom in mirror paneling all seemed to stare at him, reflecting his anxiety. But despite his instincts telling him to run, he stepped further into the room and towards the group of people waiting; Alfred F. Jones would not back out now.

He couldn't really call it a group, more like a group of couples. The farthest couple was a tall blond with glasses and sharp blue eyes that inflicted the feeling of terror, but next to him an adorable little blond had his arm wrapped around the giant's waist and balanced out the larger man's scary feeling. The other two couples stood together and talked, although a bubbled, brunet man and a beautiful woman held up the conversation, while their partners listened to their chatter. Sometimes the elegant, aristocratic man would make a comment to another tall blond, but this one had neat clothes and slicked back hair.

_Shit, was this a couples thing__?_ He edged close to the groups, but it became more obvious he was very out of place there.

"Hola, everybody!" A cheerful voice called with an unmistakable Spanish accent as a smiling brunet stepped into the room. Behind him, a dark-haired man followed, a scowl stamped permanently on his face. "My name is Antonio, but you can call me Toni. This is my dance partner, Lovi. He and I will be teaching you the passions of dance."

"My name is Lovino, please _do not_ call me Lovi," the shorter man said, a musical accent colored his voice, but Alfred couldn't place its origins. Lovino glared challengingly around the room, daring someone to call him Lovi. Their eyes locked and Alfred found himself frozen to the spot by eyes that cut through straight to his soul. "Let's get started. Get in a line along the wall."

Everyone hurried to the wall, himself included once he shook himself from his dazed, and stood silently. Lovino's sharp gaze raked over the group, his mouth moving silently. "Oaky, who doesn't have a f— partner?"

Alfred internally winced and reluctantly raised his hand.

"Why don't you have a f— partner?" Lovino stomped to him and even though he stood short than Alfred, he still felt intimidated by the smallish man and strangely excited.

He tried one of his most charming smiles, but that only made Lovino glare more. "I didn't know I was suppose to have a partner...?"

"_Sei un fottuto idiota_?" Lovino grumbled under his breath. Next to him, the brunet who had talked to the woman before, gasped and gave Lovino a horrified look.

"Lovi—"

Lovino silenced the brunet with some words in a language Alfred did understand, then turn to him and said," Fine, I will step in as your partner."

"Uh... Thank you?" Alfred stared at the shorter man warily.

"Will everyone please tell us your names?" Antonio chimed in, lightening the tense mood with his carefree smile. "Starting with you."

"Um, hello. I'm Tino and this Berwald," the cuter of the two blonds said for the both of them. "It's nice to meet you all."

Next was the brunet couple. "I'm Elizabeta and this is my husband, Roderich."

"My name is Ludwig," the smartly dressed man said with a strong German accent.

"Veh, I'm Feliciano and Lovi's my big brother."

"Shut up, idiota!" Lovino glared angrily, and Alfred almost couldn't believe the two polar opposite men were even related, but the resemblance was undeniable. "That's obviously Alfred," Lovino said sharply and pointed to him. He tried to figure out how Lovino could have known that, but then he remember the name sewn into his jacket. "Now, let's get to work."

Lovino put each couple on a black piece of tape, forming a loose circle, and Lovino and Antonio stood in the middle. "In this class, we will be teaching you the different ballroom dances: Waltz or Slow Waltz, Viennese Waltz, Ballroom Tango, Foxtrot, and the Quickstep. You will learn these dances together with your partner and make your love stronger and more passionate," Lovino said in a crisp tone.

"We'll teach the simpler Slow Waltz first. Please, turn all your attention to me," Antonio said, took Lovino's hand and rested his hand high on the man's upper back, while Lovino settled his hand on Antonio's shoulder.

The other couples copied Antonio and Lovino, he stood there uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot. Lovino broke away from Toni and walked to him, staring at him expectantly.

"What...?"

"I'm your partner, idiot, take my hand." Lovino rolled his eyes irritably.

"Oh!" Alfred quickly grabbed Lovino's hand and hesitantly put his hand on Lovino.

Lovino's hand squeezed his shoulder lightly and spoke in a low, soft voice, "Move your hand higher and move closer to me. Don't hold my hand so lightly, I'm not fragile and you're not going to break me. I may be a stranger now, but you will get to know me as well as you know yourself by the time these classes are over."

Alfred slide his hand his hand higher, dreading the heat he felt creeping up his neck. He could feel the warmth from Lovino's body seeping through his clothes. It would be so easy to just move his hand down and trap the slim man against him. "Why...Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm your dance partner. Do you understand this much?"

He nodded dumbly, enchanted by the man pressed against him.

"Good." Lovino pulled away from him and walked to another couple to make suggestions, before walking back to Antonio.

"Eyes on me, everyone," Lovino called attention to himself. "Watch closely as we show you the first steps."

Antonio took Lovino through a simple gliding, pattern, their steps seemed to mirror each other as they twirled around. He glanced up from their feet to see Antonio's smile turn into a toothy grin just as Lovino's eyes widened. Before Lovino could do, or say, anything, Antonio spun them around and whirled them around the circle. Lovino instantly adjusted his stride, dancing seamlessly with Antonio.

To Alfred, they seemed of one body, knowing where the other would step, turn and spin. Antonio and Lovino danced on together, their eyes never leaving each other's faces, although Lovino glared angrily at Antonio. They came to a stop where they began and Lovino immediately pulled away and punched Toni in the shoulder.

"Bastard!"

"Ow!" Antonio smiled, while everyone clapped for them.

"I'll show you those steps again," Lovino pulled Alfred into the circle, "But this time using Alfred as my partner, so I don't get danced around the fucking room again."

"But—" He tried to pull away.

"Don't worry," Lovino spoke softly, so the others wouldn't hear him. "Just listen to me."

He reluctantly put his hands on Lovino, again feeling the longing hold this man closer and unconsciously tightened his grip on Lovino's hand. Over Lovino's head, he could see Antonio frowning at him and he felt the strange feeling of triumph over Antonio.

Lovino whispered the steps in his ear and he stumble through them. After nearly stepping on Lovino's toes a few times, the shorter man finally said, "Relax and stop looking at your feet."

"Then where should I look?"

"Me, you dipshit."

Alfred slowly looked up and instead of finding Lovino glaring at him, like he was expecting, Lovino stared at him openly. He quickly found himself immersed in ever-changing shades of gold and green, unable to breathe or think clearly. He'd lost himself so completely that he didn't realize they had stopped dancing until Lovino pulled away.

"If this idiot can do it, so can you. Just relax and look at your partner," Lovino said in his usual sharp tone, so different from how he spoke to him before. Lovino went around inspecting everyone's postures and movements, sometimes saying something quietly to the couple, then returning to Antonio's side to whisper with him.

"One, two, three, four, five, six," Lovino called out in a steady, lyrical voice and watched the couples dance. He finally seemed to notice him standing awkwardly alone and returned to dancing with him.

They spent the rest of the hour and a half learning more steps, Lovino flitting between him, Antonio and the other students. Alfred would have felt bad for giving Lovino trouble, if he didn't feel the desire to monopolize Lovino's time and keep him in his arms. Alfred had never considered himself possessive man, but feeling Lovino's slender body pressing against his own awakened something he never felt before.

"I believe that is all we will teach you today, be ready tomorrow to learn the second half of the waltz and we'll show you some interesting flares," Antonio purred, rolling his Rs exaggeratedly.

The little brunet, he now knew as Feliciano, ran over to his older brother and whispered, none too softly, "Let's go get pasta, fratellone. You can bring Toni to talk to."

"Whatever, just give me a moment." Lovino turned to Alfred and he pretended he hadn't been eavesdropping on them. "Hey, you!"

He looked up in surprise. "Me?"

Lovino stood closer to him than he was use to and spoke softly, "You did well for a beginner."

"It was nothing." Alfred let one of his trade-mark grins spread across his face.

The dark-haired man wrinkled his nose in the most endearing fashion. "Mio dio, you're annoying as soon as you open your mouth."

"Anyway, I suggest you find yourself a partner, because I'm the only competent instructor here and working with you slows down the class," Lovino said and walked back to gather his things.

Alfred watched his pert bum in appreciation, but then he finally seemed to hear Lovino's words and not just see his lips moving. _Annoying? New partner?_ He didn't want Lovino to think he was annoying, and he most definitely didn't want a new partner. He brooded over the problem as he grabbed his bag and walked out the door. This was a problem to ask his best friend about.

...

"Arthur, let me in," he whined and joggled the doorknob.

"No! It's not my bloody fault you lost your fucking key _again_, wanker!" Arthur yelled at him through the door.

"But I need to talk with you!" Alfred banged on the door, gulping when the door gave a creak.

"Alfred F. Jones, if you break my door, I'll bloody skin you," Arthur warned.

"Then open the door! It's important!"

Arthur swung the door open, his green eyes flashing angrily. "Stop yelling! You'll bring the neighbors out!"

"I'm not the only one yelling, you grumpy crumpet!" That was a very wrong thing to say, because he barely had time to shove his foot in the door before Arthur tried to slam it shut. "Please, Arthur!"

The Brit tried to push his foot out. "Go away!"

"Gosh dang it!" Alfred forced the door open, and before Arthur could try to kick him back out, he threw the smaller man over his shoulder and slammed the door shut behind him.

His hostage kicked and screamed profanities at him until he finally threw Arthur on the couch. "Why do you do that every time I come over?"

"To keep the neighbors away." Arthur sat up and resumed drinking tea, like he'd been doing before Alfred had knocked. "There's been a particularly persistent Frenchman sneaking about, a little 'boyfriend' drama will hopefully scare him off."

He could only sigh. This was Arthur, his reclusive, shut-in, best friend. Arthur didn't care much for interacting with people and could come across as dry to most who tried speaking to him. But somehow the man still manages to get many suitors at his door that Alfred as to shoo away, because the princess wouldn't dare come down from his tower to tell the poor men to piss off.

"Now what can I do for you, love?"

"Remember how I told you I signed up for that dance class?"

"Yes, and I told you it was the gayest thing you've ever done, beside other men."

"Shut up!" Alfred sat down and kicked off his shoes. "Don't be a smartass for a moment, oaky?"

"Fine, continue."

"I met this guy and his name is Lovino and he's my teacher, but..."

"But you really want to fuck him?"

"Don't say it like that!" His face grew warm and he looked away. "I don't want _only _ that," he mumbled.

"Oh no, my innocent little Alfie is feeling the undeniable allurement of lust. What ever shall we do?" Arthur smirked at him.

"I'm serious, Arthur! I've never..."

"Felt like this before? Of course not, all your previous relationships were for the other person and never for yourself, you selfless little prick." Arthur, despite his seemingly bitter words, stared at him curiously. "Is there a reason you cannot pursue this man?"

"His dance partner, Antonio. I think they're together..."

"Do you know for sure?"

"Well—"

"Just go ask, it won't hurt anyone, you git."

"But what if he's not even gay?" He seriously doubted Lovino wasn't gay, no straight man wore pants as well-fitted as Lovino, but you never know.

"Then kill two birds with one stone and ask the man if he's dating Antonio. If he reacts with disgust, he's most likely straight, if not, then he's free game." Arthur sipped from his tea again.

"But—"

"Take it from me, there will always be a 'but', or 'if' to hold you back." Arthur eyed him in amusement. "And I _know _ you're not afraid of asking a simple question, right?"

"Of course not! I'm not afraid of anything!" He pouted, knowing full well Arthur was messing with him like usual.

"Good, lad. Now go tell that French frog to get off my balcony before I call the police." Arthur lazily gestured to the double doors with his teacup.

He groaned and glanced out, glaring at the blond head peeking over a large flowerpot. "Why can you never handle these guys by yourself?"

"Because then there'd be no reason to keep you around, love. Now go do it before I throw both you wankers to your deaths."

Alfred rolled his eyes, but stood up anyway. He wouldn't put past Arthur to commit double homicide and the handsome Brit could probably get away with it, too.

* * *

**Translations:**

**Sei un fottuto idiota? (Italian): Are you a fucking idiot?**

**I am not a dance, nor have I ever taken a dance class. But after studying videos of dancers, I have tried my best to describe the different techniques and stances. Thank you for reading.**

**-_Windy_**


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you bring another partner?"

"What?"

Lovino gave him an irritated glare. "I take that as a no. Fine, fucking fine."

"S-Sorry?" It would seem he was already starting off on Lovino's bad side.

"Don't apologize, idiot." Lovino turned away and clapped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention to him. "Everyone on their spot, now!"

The couples scrambled into the circle-like positions and waited. Antonio stood in the center, waiting for Lovino to join him, but Lovino, instead of going to him, joined Alfred at his tape-marked spot.

"Go through the steps we learned yesterday. Toni will be going around and correcting any mistakes." Lovino shot a look at Antonio that seemed to send a silent order to the other man, and then took Alfred's hand.

As they went through the steps, he did his best not to glance at his feet and instead kept his eyes on the handsome face in front of him. "So..." _God, I'm so awkward. What about him makes my tongue feel like its been stuck to a frozen pole for two hours again?_

"What?"

"Are you...dating Antonio?" Alfred asked shyly, his cheeks growing warm. _Curse Arthur._

Lovino's eyes narrowed and his lips turned down at the corners. "No, why the hell are you asking?"

"Uh..." He glanced at Antonio and found him watching them rather than the other couples. "He's kinda staring at us," Alfred said quickly.

"Really?" Lovino spun them so he could look over Alfred's shoulder. "The fuckhead, he's slacking off again," His instructor grumbled and pulled away from him, marching over to Antonio.

The two men spoke in hushed voice, until Lovino yanked Antonio's ear roughly and hissed none too softly, "Don't be an idiot!"

"Ow! _Vale_, _vale_." Antonio pouted and took Lovino's hand in his own. "Don't be angry with me, _mi corazón._"

"Shut up," Lovino huffed and glanced around. Everyone acted as though they hadn't been listening in on them, himself included, and continued dancing. "Alright, stop moving."

"Today, I will be introducing music to our lessons and from now on, you will learn steps first, and then match them to the music. It will most likely be easier for you when you have music to count the beats for you." Lovino walked to the stereo sitting in the corner and switched it on. "Stand back, Antonio and I will show you how this waltz will look once you learn and perfect all the steps."

Antonio stood in the middle of the room and dropped into a low bow when Lovino approached him, his hand extended towards him. Lovino blushed prettily and smacked Antonio on the head before taking his hand and jerking him up. Antonio chuckled, smiling brightly, and drew Lovino close to him. They started off together, their movements fluid and graceful. The soft music in the background guided their every step as they glided around the room in a circled. Antonio brought them to a stop.

"We'll go through it slower. Watch closely."

He tried to keep his eyes focused on the movement of Antonio's feet, but he kept glancing up to their faces. Lovino was scowling and whispering to Antonio, but the taller man just shook his head, frowning for once. Antonio brought them to a stop again, but seemed reluctant to let go of Lovino. The brunet eventually pushed Antonio away and turned to his students, his expression dark and stormy.

"This is called a traveling step," Lovino said, demonstrating by lifting his arms, as though he had a partner, and taking a long step to the side, continuing on through the previous steps without a partner. "You will use this particular step all throughout the dance to move around the room in a circle. This step can be used to switch positions with your partner and take the lead."

Lovino beckoned Alfred to him, taking his hands and putting them into the proper places. "If you are dancing at a party or formal event, you might want to show off, si?" Lovino asked, nudging him to start the dance. He tried his best to go through the steps, and as much as he loved to show off, dancing in front of all these strangers made him nervous.

When they nearly reached their starting point, Lovino leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "I'm going to take a step back, give the lead to me."

His instructor stepped back and Alfred followed. He found it easier to follow Lovino's controlled steps than lead himself. With his clumsy feet, Alfred was surprised he hadn't trod on Lovino's toes, but he suspected that was partly because of Lovino's skills as a dancer. Alfred glanced up from his feet and found Lovino smirking mischievously at him. Before he knew what happened, Alfred was suspended from the ground by surprisingly strong arms with his sexy dance teacher's face hovering inches from his. Lovino straightened up, pulling him into a standing position, but all he could do was stare dumbly at Lovino and blush like an idiot.

"A dip is always a nice flare to end any dance and impress those around you, although warm your partner first, or they'll likely go into dip shock." Lovino punched his shoulder, an amused expression on his face. "Come on, f—idiot. Is it really that surprising?"

"Yes." His voice broke and he quickly cleared his throat, rubbing a hand over his burning face. "I wasn't expecting it."

"Obviously."

He flushed brightly and looked away from Lovino's laughing eyes.

They spent the rest of the hour practicing and dancing around the room. Lovino didn't go back to dancing with Antonio, using Alfred if he needed an example, and the cheery Spaniard spent most of his time supervising the other couples, although Alfred often caught him staring at him and Lovino. After Lovino had dipped him, Alfred had trouble keeping the blush off his face the rest of the time they danced.

"Alright, everyone. You did a good job today. I'll see you tomorrow," Antonio said pleasantly, clapping his hands together.

Lovino stepped away from him and turned off the stereo. Antonio followed him, laying a hand on his arm. While the others filed out of the room, Alfred lingered in the doorway, watching the two men from behind the slight wall that concealed him. Lovino smacked Antonio's hand away. "Don't you fucking touch me, not after the shit you tried to pull during class. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"But you're _my_ partner, not some stupid Americano's." Antonio dropped his happy smile.

"What do you expect me to do? The kid doesn't have a fucking partner! I'm not going to make him leave the class, because of your fucking jealousy. We need his money, you bastard, unless you want to lose the studio," Lovino growled.

"Let's go back into competitions, _mi amor_. We could get plenty of money from winning and keep the studio, if you want," Antonio pleaded.

"Don't you remember the reason we left in the first place? I'm done with that shit, Toni."

"I know, but..."

"What is this really about?" Lovino put his hands on his hips and glared at Antonio.

"Don't be mad, _mi corazón_." Antonio wrapped an arm around Lovino's waist and took his hand in a casual dancing embrace. "I don't like that Americano—he wants you. I can see it in his eyes."

"You mean Alfred? Don't be stupid. I barely know the bastard, and you know I hardly ever date anymore." Lovino allowed Antonio to sway him to silent music.

"I know, but I still don't want to share you." Antonio's smile was back in full force. "You're such a wonderful dancer."

Lovino shoved him away, fighting to keep blush off his cheeks. "Fuck off and go home. You shouldn't worry about such stupid things."

"You're not leaving?"

"No, there's some things I need to do."

"I could stay and help—"_  
_

"_Go_!"

Antonio pouted, but didn't question his partner any further, grabbing his bag on the way out. Thankfully, Antonio took the other door and Alfred remained hidden. Lovino sighed, leaning against the wall. "That idiot..."

Alfred peek out from behind the wall. Lovino turned the stereo back on, switching it from the smooth, classical music to a faster, more modern song. The brunet swung his hips to the beat of the music, his arms coming up over his hand as he took a few steps forward. Alfred's eyes followed Lovino's slow, seductive movements hungrily as the other man danced. Lovino ran his hands over his body sensually, untucking his shirt and unbuttoning it in a slow, deliberate manner that made his blood run hot in his veins. When the song ended, Lovino was half-naked and smiling ever so slightly a smile that tempted even the purest saint. But that ghost of a smile disappeared into a scowl when the brunet spotted him and scrambled to put his clothes on.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Lovino, now fully clothed, stalked towards him with murder in his eyes.

"Ah! Uh...I-I left my jacket here." Alfred clutched his bag in front of him, hiding the painful tightness in his pants.

"Bullshit, try again." Lovino backed him against the door and he fumbled to open it. The brunet stepped close to him, putting a hand on the door to keep it closed, and glared viciously.

"Uh...You're a good dancer." He couldn't think properly with the slightly disheveled man trapping him against the door. Alfred tried to keep his eyes off the skin that show where Lovino didn't button his shirt fully.

"I know. Now tell me why you're still here."

He looked away from the eyes that cut right into him. "I wanted to see if you would perhaps do some extra practice with me..."

"Get out."

"I sorry—"

"Don't apologize. Just leave." Lovino leaned up and spoke in a soft, deadly voice against his ear, "Don't tell anyone what you saw, or we might have a problem."

Lovino dropped his hand to his side and moved away. Alfred scurried awkwardly out the door as quickly as he could with the problem between his legs, the ghost of Lovino's breath still brushing over his skin. He could feel Lovino's watchful eyes glare into his back all the way home.

...

Alfred thankfully remembered his key this time and let himself into the apartment. Banquets upon banquets of flowers were piled by the door, along with boxes of chocolate. "Holy smokes..."

"Alfred? Is that you?" Arthur peered around the corner, an iron pan raised above his head.

"Did Valentine's Day vomit in the hall here?"

"Haha, you're so bloody funny, git. No, it's that frog again."

"I thought I scared that guy off." He hung his jacket on a hook and took his shoes off; Arthur might yell at him if he didn't.

"He's a persistent tosser. I tell him I don't like beards, he shaves his off. He sends me roses, I tell him I don't like roses and he sends me orchids. I say I don't like orchids, he brings me daisies. He just won't give up!"

"Do I need to have a man to man talk with this guy that if a chick don't dig you, she just don't dig you?"

Arthur flung the pan at him, narrowly missing his head. "I'm not a fucking chick. And it's 'doesn't', not 'don't', you bloody fucking twat!"

"Language. There are children in this building," he teased, wary of provoking the Brit any further, but unwilling to leave him alone completely.

"Fuck you!" Arthur picked up the pan and smacked him in the ass with it.

"Ow! Learn to take a joke, Artie."

"I told you not to call me that, and you dented our best fucking pan!"

"Me! You're the one who threw it! And it's not like either of us cook anyway!" Alfred threw up his hands in defense when Arthur raised the pan again. They stared at each other, and then burst out laughing, holding onto each other for support.

"Ah, so how's your sexy dance teacher?" Arthur wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes, walking back to the living room with him following behind and setting the pan in a chair.

"Sexier than ever. He dipped me today." Alfred tried to keep the blush off his face, thinking back to the lovely amount of skin he got to see and remembering he shouldn't say anything about it. The blinds on the double doors that led to the balcony and all the windows were down, leaving the room dim and dreary. Arthur usually kept them up to let light in.

"Oooohhh, details, my boy. I want details." Arthur sat down and offered him a chocolate.

"Like what? He dipped me and it was incredibly sexy." Alfred took a chocolate and ate it. "Wow, this is some high-class shit."

"Yes, he's a fashion designer from France, quite a rich man. He keeps sending me notes that offer to rescue me from our 'abusive relationship' and sweep me off to France. I believe the bloke thinks this is some save the princess from the tower and slay the dragon that protects her fairytale." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Well, that is a pretty romantic thought and from what I've seen, he's another romantic." He took another chocolate. "I'm sure he'll change his mind and come after me when he realizes you're the abusive one." Alfred ducked as a pillow flew over his head. "But I'm fine with letting him think I'm the big, bad dragon, as long as I don't get slayed."

"I won't let it come to that, love. I much rather be the one to drive a sword into your heart." Arthur crossed his legs and glaring at him. "But forget that Frog, how was your day?"

"Remember I told you about Antonio?"

"Yes."

"I think he likes Lovino, but Lovino either chooses to not see his obvious attraction—and I mean really obvious—or he simply doesn't care. They're not together, but Antonio wants to be."

"Antonio and Lovino. Lovino and Antonio. Why do those names seem familiar...?" Arthur rubbed his head, and then stared at him with wide, surprised eyes. "Is this Lovino my height with brown hair and hazel eyes?"

"Yes... How did you know?"

"Bloody hell, it can't be... They're the sexiest, openly gay dance couple in Europe! Especially that irresistible Italian. What the hell are they doing in the United States?" Arthur stared at him with renewed interest.

"I don't know..." He mumbled to himself, "That explains all the gay European couples in the class."

"Yes, they must have all watched Lovino and Antonio preform. They were very good, you know. If one of them had been female, I'm sure they would have been the best dance pair in Europe." Arthur leaned back and sighed, strangely depressed by the reality of society.

"Why do you think they came to the United States?"

"Probably for the same reason I did: a new start. Being homosexual in Europe isn't easy, especially if you come from Italy like Lovino. There was a big uproar when Lovino came out, and his family probably would have disowned him if his younger hadn't come out as well."

"Wow, that's harsh. His little brother is here too, you know. He's in Lovino's dance class with a tall German."

"Really? That German must be Ludwig Beilschmidt." Arthur picked up his teacup from the table and sipped it thoughtfully. "If both the brothers are here, I wonder who will inherit the family fortune."

"Arthur, why do you know all this?"

"You know I have a certain taste for gossip, git. And I love Lovino's and Antonio's dance style."

"Were they every...together?"

"There was quite the debate about that, actually. But Antonio was found with Ludwig Beilschmidt's brother at a movie theater in a compromising position. When questioned about it, Lovino eloquently told the reporters to fuck off." Arthur chuckled.

"Do you think I have a chance with him?"

"Lovino? I don't think you have a chance in hell. It's a well-known fact, Lovino is an angry, foul-mouth man, liable to fits of rage and violence. That's what made Lovino so controversial."

"So, basically he's just like you."

"Exactly, and I would never date a cowboy hick like you, although I'm more restrained than Lovino."

"Your eyebrows are huge."

Arthur tensed.

"Like black caterpillars crawling across your face—" The Brit was over the coffee table and pushing his face into a couch cushion before he could react. Arthur tickled his sides, using his extensive knowledge of Alfred's most ticklish spots to his advantage.

"Laugh yourself to death, you shit talking, cum guzzling monkey! I hope you suffocate in hell!"

"Living with you is hell!" Alfred shouted between his laughter, trying to push the smaller man off him. He finally wrestled Arthur off him and pinned the Brit with his weight, taking refuge between his legs so Arthur couldn't kick him.

"Get your fatass off me!"

"Are you going to be nice?"

"Go to hell!"

He laughed while Arthur struggled. Finally Arthur stopped moving and laid still. "Are you ready to be nice again?" When Arthur didn't say anything, he panicked and sat up. "Shit, did you die—"

A fist caught him in the jaw and Arthur glared at him darkly. "Get off me."

Alfred scooted back, rubbing his jaw, and watched the Brit warily. Arthur packed quite a punch and almost never fought fair. The blond was more willing to strike when his opponent was least expecting it than any snake he'd encountered.

"_Excusez-Moi_..." Someone cleared their throat. He looked up, and an elegant, blond stood in the entrance hall. "_Bonjour_."

Arthur planted a foot on Alfred's chest and kicked him over the edge of the couch. "Alfred, you idiot! You forgot to lock the door!"

"It's not my fault, you jumped me as soon as I opened the door!" Alfred glared at Arthur over the arm of the couch.

"I don't bloody care! You let the Frenchie back into my flat!" Arthur jumped up and smoothed his rumbled shirt.

"Arthur," the man's voice was heavily accented, "I was wondering if we could talk in private without the center of our problem here."

"Are you talking about me? I'll gladly leave," he said, ducking when Arthur glared at him.

"No," Arthur snapped at the both of them. "Get out, Francis."

"Don't be like that," the Frenchman purred, stepping further into the room. "You can't avoid me forever."

"Like hell I can't! Get the hell out of my flat!"

"_Mon chere_, I only want to save you from this brute."

"I don't need saving, wanker!"

"I'm not a brute! Arthur, I don't like being the bad guy." Alfred pouted and stood up. "I want to be a hero."

"Stop your whining. Be a hero by removing this man from my home!" Arthur gave the Frenchman a shove towards the door.

"You heard the queen, out you go." Alfred walked forward and grabbed the man by the elbow. "Come on, Froggie."

"My name is Francis, and do not touch me! I will not leave without speaking with Arthur." Francis tore his arm from Alfred's grip, while Arthur made his escape and slipped away to hide in his room.

"Yeah, well, Arthur doesn't want to speak to you. Don't be another asshole, and just leave. I really don't want to hurt you..." He half-heartedly wondered why Arthur got involved with such guys if he wasn't going to start a relationship with them; Arthur couldn't keep trying to live with no strings attached forever.

The blond raised his chin defiantly. "I came here to speak to Arthur, and I won't leave until I do so."

"Are you deaf? He doesn't want to see you." Alfred blocked Francis's way when the Frenchman tried to slip by. "If Arthur wanted a boyfriend, I'm sure you'll be the first one he calls. So, until hell freezes over, please leave."

Francis gave him a strange look. "Aren't you his boyfriend?"

_Shit_. He scratched his chin. "It's an on and off thing? Ah, screw it. Sorry, Arthur," Alfred called towards Arthur's bedroom and shove Francis out. "Oaky, listen here. Arthur and I aren't dating, he just says that to keep other men away. Arthur doesn't want anyone, so I'm begging you, leave."

"I can't leave him. I'm in love with him." The surety in Francis's voice startled him, and he smiled sadly.

"He doesn't feel that way about you. Just go and don't come back, or next time it might be Arthur telling you he doesn't love you."

Alfred truly felt bad for the men Arthur played with, like a cat with a mouse before it kills the rodent. He knew too well what it was like to be in love with Arthur; he had once been one of Arthur's playthings. For the longest time he hated Arthur for using him and tossing him away so mercilessly, but, on one drunken night, he saw just how much Arthur suffered from his self-inflicted isolation and loneliness. He didn't love Arthur the way he use to anymore, but he wanted to protected the vulnerable man who only came out when the night was dark and the drink was strong.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot accept defeat—not against that man. I'll go this time, but you will see." And with that, Francis walked away.

Alfred slowly shook his head. In truth, he did want to see Arthur in love and happy, but he didn't know what it would do to the man. Arthur was no simple person. He had been in love before. He had been in love so completely that he chose never to love again—never hold another person in his heart as he once had so long ago. It had brought Arthur too much pain, so he condemned himself the miserable existence of living with no one near his well-guarded heart.

He turned to go back inside, but the doorknob didn't move. Arthur had locked him out.

"Fuck."

* * *

**I swear this will start focusing on the Romerica part of it soon. I swear. Until then, enjoy Arthur and Alfred taking cracks at each other. Thank you for reading.**

**-_Windy_**


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